7 July 2025
A few hours in Albufereta Hide, Alcudia,Mallorca
A Natural Escape
It’s 5 p.m. on a Saturday in early July. The air is thick, heavy—35 degrees and humidity hovering around 58%. Mallorca, in the grip of a long, rainless stretch, feels scorched and motionless. I’m still drowsy from a siesta when a friend calls with an idea: “Fancy heading to the hide at S’Albufereta?”
A quick cold shower, a bottle of water, and I’m packing my bag—Nikon Z8, 180–600mm zoom, tripod, and a couple of batteries. Within minutes, I’m on my way.
Into the Wild
The short 10-minute walk from the car to the hide feels longer than usual. The land around Alcudia is cracked, dry, sunburned. Everything is parched after more than two months without rain. The Nature Park of S’Albufereta lies still and golden in the late-afternoon light.
We enter the hide and are hit with an even more stifling wave of warm, humid air. But as we open the viewing flaps, a soft breeze pushes through. Relative relief, and just in time.
Life on the Lake
Through the slit windows, life unfolds across the shallow, shrinking lake. At least 20 flamingos feed slowly in the distance, their pink reflections trembling in the water. Black-winged stilts dart along the shore, and other birds I can’t name just yet call and swoop and glide across the sky.
I should say here: I’m a photographer, not a twitcher. Some of the names elude me until I’m home with a field guide or an image search. What I care about in the moment is movement, light, composition, and that instant when something wild reveals itself.
Moments in Flight
We set up quietly and wait. It doesn't take long.
Territorial squabbles break out between breeds. Protective parents defend their young. Birds dive and rise, chirping and flapping in flashes of motion. At 20 frames per second, the Z8 captures everything. A tern swoops down with food for its chicks—I rattle off a burst. Sharp. Clean. Fleeting.
At the Water’s Edge
A few minutes later, a juvenile Kentish plover wanders in front of the hide, pecking and watching. I manage another burst—20 frames or so—tracking its tiny movements at the cracked edge of the lake. The light is kind today, even in the heat. I’m shooting around 1/2000 sec, f/9, and a manageable ISO.
A Pied Avocet steps through the shallows, slow and deliberate. In a flash, it strikes—and to my surprise, pulls an eel from the water. (Anguila) It plays with it briefly, flipping it, adjusting its grip, and then swallows it whole in one fluid gulp. I fire off a series of shots as quickly as I can.
That moment alone was worth the walk.
Flamingos in Formation
The flamingos begin to drift closer. Their graceful shapes mirrored in the shallows, their movements slow and deliberate. I take a few final frames before lowering the camera and just watching them for a while. Their elegance, their awkward beauty—hard to capture fully, but a joy to witness.
No Screen Can Match It
After two hours, the light has shifted, the water is quieter, and I’m down to the last few sips of water. Time to leave the hide.
Even if you’re not a birder or not a photographer, the hide at S’Albufereta is worth the visit. It offers a front-row seat to something real—unscripted, unpredictable, and somehow grounding. It’s better than Netflix, better than YouTube. This is life in all its quiet, unspectacular, wild glory.
And it’s just down the road.
—
David Campling Photographer. Observer. Storyteller.